hot steam
by mastermorgan
Summary: first story! no flames


this is my first story no flames!

Her breath is hot on my neck in this cold room. Lips barely grace the contours of my shoulders as she sweeps my hair to the side. Small, fleeting kisses trail across my back from behind, her hands holding me steady against her as she walks us forwards toward the bed. I stand before her as she tugs me closer, pressing her lips to mine gently. Her touch is soft as she pushes me down onto the bed, lips never leaving mine. Everything about her is soft. Her skin, her lips, her hair, her eyes, her voice, her personality - they're all as soft as the pastel hues coloring the walls around us. Our chests press together, fabric restricting our pleasure only mere seconds before she reaches behind herself and snaps off her bra. She reaches behind me as well, grabbing hold of the end of the tight wrapping withholding my feminine self. "This needs to come off," she mumbles into my neck before nipping and kissing it again. I chuckle, lifting myself up slightly so she can unhook it and pull the binding gauze off of my chest. It feels as if a giant weight lifts from my body as air rushes onto my newly exposed chest. She stops licking and sucking my neck, instead pulling back and taking in this new sight - this foreign world that I'd initially tried to hide from her. She leans forward again, hands tickling up my torso and cupping me gently. Her breath is hot on my ear as she whispers to me, "I love you. All of you." she starts to kiss down, hesitating on my collarbone so she can kiss across it. Her lips hover in nervous anticipation above my left breast before her tongue whips out, licking its entirety. I gasp, my back arching up and pushing me against her even more. I can see the smile in her eyes as she looks up at me, lips poised above the tit. I shiver at the pure erotic nature of the sight, only to practically thrash as she takes me into her mouth, twirling her tongue teasingly around the areola before flicking the bud lightly.

Her right hand, previously running up and down my bare side, makes its way back up my torso, grabbing hold of my unoccupied breast and messaging it with a gentleness so very much characteristic of her softness.

I let my hands tangle into her hair, her soft, beautiful hair, then run them up and down her bare back. I need to feel her, to know her, to see and explore her.

I think she senses my need, or else just wants to kiss me again. I roll us over so that I can be on top of her, hips still connected, lips attached. My hands roam all over her, lightly touching my callused fingertips against her smooth stomach. And even though I am her opposite, everything I do with her is soft.

She sighs contentedly as I take her breasts into my hands. I kiss her once more before I allow myself to be overtaken with this want, this desire, to give her my everything. I need her to understand. I need her to realize the extent of this love that tears away at my soul and rips me apart every time she holds my hand in public. Every time she kisses me goodbye in front of her friends. Every time she brings me to her family Christmas even though her dad hates me and her mom suspects I'm a drug addict.

The only thing I'm drugged on is her.

I fumble with the button of her jeans as I suck at her nipple. Her hands are in my short hair, back arched up against me as she moans. The feel of her skin pressed up against mine drives me wild, and I yank at her jeans desperately, grunting, wanting nothing more than for them to burst into a cloud of dust and never bother me again.

She giggles at my eagerness, lifts her hips up and wiggles, attempting to help me. I nibble lightly on her breast, causing her to gasp and give up trying to help remove the offending garment. I finally succeed, however, and relish in my victory as I chunk them away to the other side of the room. The teddy bear I bought her for Valentine's Day doesn't need to witness this kind of thing anyways.

"Much better," I whisper onto her skin. I can feel her shake as my cool breath hits the hot skin under her belly button. Her pink underwear is the only article left on her body. Such a soft pink.

"Babe, please," she whispers into the dimly lit room. Her hands are still in my hair, and I can feel her pushing me down.

I smile, letting my tongue drag itself down her exposed stomach. I hook my fingers into her panties, dragging them down just in time to continue my tongue's journey.

The smell of her hits me hard.

I bite back a moan of utter desire, her wet sex causing an uncomfortable coil in my stomach to form. I breathe her scent in, blowing out cold air directly onto her lips. Her back arches, a violent shudder wracking her fragile form. She moans, pushing my head harder, forcing me closer. I finally give into her, lolling my tongue out to rake it across her sensitive area. I lick and suck and kiss in a similar but extensively more sensual way as I would if I were making out with her mouth. Then, on a whim, I poke my tongue into her. The taste of her in unbelievable, the feel of her unreal. She lets out a long groan, hands gripping the sheets in some desperate attempt to ground her to this earthly world. But she deserves to ascend the heavens, and damned if I don't do everything in my power to make sure she does. Even if this is the only way I can do that. I become heady with her strong smell, and in my determined efforts, I forget to breathe. Panting delays my mouth, bringing an unintended break as I struggle to recuperate. I suddenly remember the existence of my fingers and push my index into her. I'm struck by this new softness, and almost forget my intended purpose with this change. I slowly pull and push my finger in and out of her, marveling at this wonderful sensation. Within seconds, I push another finger into her and reattach my mouth; but instead of running my tongue along her length, I suck on her clit. In her arousal, it's come unsheathed, begging me for attention. It isn't long, barely a minute, before I can feel her walls clenching my two fingers in earnest. The fact that I've taken her to heaven in such a short time fills me with joy, and I continue ravishing her, picking up tempo so as to make the most out of her pleasure. She screams above me, hips bucking up and dislodging my mouth from her. I kiss her thighs as I continue with my hand, helping her ride out the ecstasy of my love. She clenches tight around me, and the sensation of her softness is so profound I almost forget to look up at her. Almost. Her eyes are closed, back arched slightly, but not enough to hide her beauty from me. Her lashes are dark and long, scarcely brushing the tips of her cheekbones. In her rapture, a contented aura hangs suspended over her features. A smile lies on her lips, and I'm overcome with longing to kiss her. I work my way back up her body, kissing and licking up her torso before I'm met with panting, eager lips. Her hands run up and down my back as we fight a battle of dominance with our tongues. And although I'm never passive with anyone else, I let her win. I always let her win. She pushes me back against her bed, comforter engulfing me. Hands, her hands, pull at the buckle of my belt. It's undone within seconds, button and zipper following shortly after. Before I even register what's happening, she's moving away from my mouth, pulling my pants and boxers off in one go. I don't say anything as I lie trembling under her gaze. She never breaks eye contact with me, not once, as she lets her tongue slide across my opening. I want so desperately to squeeze my eyes shut and thrash about on the bed, but her eyes hold me in place. All nervousness escapes my brain as she smiles sweetly up at me, clenches my hand in hers. She knows I'm scared. She pushes a kiss against my mound, no tongue, no touching fingers. Just a kiss. "I won't if you don't want to," she whispers, still staring up at me. With this tenderness, this compassion, I can't deny her. Rather, I want her to. I've never wanted anything so much from another person, ever. I want her. All of her. I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes back, reassuringly. "Go ahead," I breathe. My voice seems to have disappeared. She again kisses me, then shifts her attention into a more sexual mindset, tongue working in every which way to bring me pleasure. Her tongue is loving, gentle, sincere as she seeks that place of intensity. Unable to find it immediately, as her eyes are still attached to mine, she inserts a single finger. I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't move. She must know what she does to me. She has to. I take in a large gasp of air, our eye contact finally breaking as she pumps another finger into me. I cry out as she hits a particular spot, her fingers curled just slightly to find it. My back is arched so painfully that I fear I could snap any moment from the tension, my eyes drawn closed so tightly that my face hurts. Wave after wave of euphoria hits me as she continues relentlessly. I don't realize I'm screaming her name until pain registers in my throat. My back hits the bed wearily, my ascent into heaven drawn to a close as she slowly removes her fingers. Sometime or another she'd snuck a third one in. No wonder. "That was amazing," she says to me, kissing me hard. Our bodies mesh together, breasts pressed against one another, legs entwined.


End file.
